BOOK SYNOPSIS

What happens in Vegas…Can break hearts and destroy careers.

Years ago, heartbreak corrupted Jared Tippins’s outlook on love. He spun the betrayal into a rapid climb up the corporate ladder, and swore off any relationship with a morning after. Luckily, the playful siren who rescues him from singing a duet alone in a karaoke bar doesn’t want anything long term.

If only he could stop fantasizing about ways to make her moan. Sure, she could’ve mentioned he works for the competition. At least she’s not behind the security concerns that have plagued his company for almost six months.

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EXCERPT

He laid a line of soft kisses along her neck, and then down her spine through her shirt. Hooking his thumbs into the elastic of her panties, he dragged them down her legs. “They are black. Lucky me.”

She let out a small laugh as she stepped out of the lingerie. “Glad I didn’t disappoint.” And there was her attitude. It made him as hard as the thought of burying himself inside her did. She spun to face him and plucked the panties from his hand, a teasing gleam in her eyes. She stepped close enough to rub her entire frame against him. Her hand slid along his waist, and she stuffed the lingerie in his pocket. “In case the memory of tonight isn’t enough of a souvenir for you.”

What made someone so tantalizingly bold? No, he didn’t need to know, as long as she didn’t stop. He tangled his fingers in her hair again, barely able to grasp the short strands. He pressed his forehead to hers, not able to keep the hunger from his voice. “Trust me, the memories are already enough to keep me company for a while. But when you walk out of here, at least I’ll know it’s without anything on under your skirt, the cool air brushing your skin, reminding you why you’re so wet.”

“Good thing I packed extra.” She tilted her head and nipped at his bottom lip before kissing him.

AUTHOR BIO

Allyson Lindt is a full-time geek and a fuller-time contemporary romance author. She prefers that her geeky heroes come with the alpha expansion pack and adores a heroine who can hold her own in a boardroom. She loves a sexy happily-ever-after and helping deserving cubicle dwellers find their futures together.

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The Secrets We KeptLily VelezPublication date: November 8th 2015Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult

One year. That’s how long it’s been since childhood sweethearts Sully Graham and Cadence Gilbertson broke up, since one adoption and one out-of-state move turned their worlds upside down.
Suddenly, Cadence is back in New York City, but something’s different about her. The light in her eyes, the music in her laughter, the warmth in her smile—all of those things have entirely vanished. In their place stand the makings of a girl Sully can’t even begin to recognize, much less understand.
Still, despite the collective history of heartbreak between them, he’s convinced he can win her trust again, and he’s committed to proving the invincibility of their love no matter what it takes.
But Cadence is quietly harboring secrets of her own. Dark secrets. Ugly secrets. Secrets that could break a person. And though broken herself and unbearably lonely, she’s determined to protect Sully from her terrible, biting truths. Even if it means locking him out of her life forever.
The only problem is it seems her heart hasn’t quite received the memo. One glimpse of him is all it takes for her to trip into familiar (and, she’ll admit, addictive) feelings that threaten to all but consume her. Now her biggest fear is that her secrets will begin to slowly unravel one by one…long before Sully’s resolve ever does.The Secrets We Kept is a moving story about first love, friendship, and forgiveness, and the enduring bonds that forever connect us and give us our strength.

Excerpt:
Sully still remembered the first time that he saw Cadence. It was a sweltering summer that year. Push-cart ice cream vendors roamed the neighborhood blocks like soldiers on patrol, circling playgrounds and community swimming pools. It was common to see people pop open fire hydrants like champagne bottles, children dancing in the shoots of water as miniature rainbows reflected off the asphalt.

Sully and his brother, twelve and ten years old at the time, were living with the Petersons back then along with a tribe of foster siblings. Ol’ Man Peterson was a Vietnam vet with PTSD and a short-fuse temper that exploded so quickly, it was like his personality had a gas leak. Usually, maintaining a thirty-foot distance from the man at all times was insurance against his drunken rampages. His military pedigree had bred in him a no-nonsense adherence to hard work and, where appropriate, hard discipline—both of which were far less easy to escape.
The hard work in particular manifested in the Peterson prison as an endless checklist of chores (otherwise known as “slave labor” in the Spencer Graham lexicon), the completion or lack thereof of which determined whether or not you ate dinner that night. Additionally, each child had to fulfill their assigned task in accordance with certain standards, and as Ol’ Man Peterson was an uncompromising perfectionist, one chore could go through three to five rounds before the man extended a grunt of approval.
The afternoon Cadence arrived, Sully and Spencer were attached to yard work. While the Peterson walk-up sat only a few yards from the curb, which meant there barely existed a lawn between the chain-link fence and the front door, Ol’ Man Peterson preferred his grass cut to an exact height. It was taking painstaking precision to perfect his science.
Spencer lay on his stomach with a see-through ruler to measure the blades of grass. “I think you cut this side of the walkway too short.”
Sully rested a broom atop his shoulders, arms draping over it like a scarecrow. “It’s way too hot to even care, dude.”
“I care because I want to see the new Adam Sandler, movie and I’m not about to get grounded for another weekend.”
“How many times have I been grounded because of you?”
Spencer stood. “Whatever. I’m taking over sweeping duty.” He stretched out a hand to receive the broom, but Sully’s gaze had already shifted to a royal blue SUV parking alongside the curb. A woman emerged from the driver’s side. She came around to open the backseat door closest to the Peterson home. Two ballet flats appeared from under the door, reaching for the street. When the woman closed the door, a girl who looked to be Sully’s age or slightly younger stood with her, hands bracketed to the straps of her backpack and her bottom lip caught softly under her front teeth.
Spencer snapped in Sully’s face. “Hellooo? Earth to Sully.” Sully nodded toward the two, and when Spencer turned and saw them, he said, “Uh oh. Another casualty.”
The woman, clearly the girl’s caseworker, greeted the boys with a cheery “working hard?” before continuing up the walkway with her charge. Sully waited for the girl to look his way, and when she finally did, he offered her a soft, barely-there smile by way of hello. Part greeting, part commiseration. She instantly looked away.
They discovered her name only because she was sharing a bunk-bed with their friend Novah. “Cadence Livingston,” she told them. “She’s been in the system for a few years. She doesn’t talk much. Or at all. Those are the only things I was able to get from her. She’s probably halfway to being a mute.”
“I wish Spencer was a mute,” Sully muttered.
“Ha ha,” Spencer said. “You’re so funny. Absolutely hilarious. How did I get so lucky to have a brother like you?” Then he excused himself to see about fixing the eyesore Sully had made of the front lawn and left Sully fixated on the enigma of the quiet and elusive Cadence Livingston.

Author Bio:
Lily Velez has been writing stories since she was six years old. Not much has changed since then. She still prefers the written word and her overactive imagination over the ‘real world’ (though to be fair, her stories no longer feature talking dinosaurs). A graduate of Rollins College and a Florida native, when she’s not reading or writing, she spends most of her days wrangling up her pit bulls Noah and Luna, planning exciting travel adventures, and nursing her addiction to cheese. All this when she isn’t participating in the extreme sport known as napping. You can learn more about Lily and her books at www.lilyvelezbooks.com.
Lily’s debut novel, The Secrets We Kept, comes out November 8, 2015.

Who would have thought your dreams could kill you?
Melaina makes the best of her peculiar heritage: half human and half Oneiroi, or dream spirit, she can manipulate others’ dreams. At least working out the back of a new age store as a ‘dream therapist’ pays the bills. Barely.
But when Melaina treats a client for possession by a nightmare creature, she unleashes the murderous wrath of the creature’s master. He could be anywhere, inside anyone: a complete stranger or her dearest friend. Melaina must figure out who this hidden adversary is and what he’s planning – before the nightmares come for her.

I closed my eyes and looked into Larry’s dreams.
I was expecting to find a tortured psyche, an aspect of his subconscious manifesting itself there. Daddy or mummy issues, arachnophobia, anxiety, even garden-variety stress: I’d seen them all at one point or another. I couldn’t fix his psychological issues, but I could put a temporary block on his dreams until his doctor’s referral came good.
That was what it usually was.
What I found was a thing.
The creature was an amorphous black cloud about the size of my torso. Greasy as a burger shop floor, it had yellowing eyes and writhing tentacles … if tentacles could be covered with fine hair and worm into your skin like something from a bad horror movie.
I’d seen manifestations of people’s nightmares before, more times than I could count. But this wasn’t part of Larry. It was an interloper. A blight.
“Hello,” I said.
The blight hissed like a feral cat over a broken-backed lizard that wasn’t quite dead. Around us, the dreamscape resolved into a rolling hillside, distinctly Australian in its gentle undulations. No sharp-edged peaks here. The grass underfoot was withered, not by the summer sun but by the blight’s corruption. A single eucalypt wept tears of black sap. Clouds loomed, obscuring the vast sky.
I wouldn’t have picked Larry for the rural landscape type. You can never tell. “You’re an ugly little grease-ball, aren’t you?”
The blight’s eyes were flat, uncomprehending and angry. I wasn’t going to be able to goad it into letting go. And I didn’t want to attack it while those tentacles were embedded in the reddish dirt beneath the tree. What if one of them tore off? That could result in residual badness for Larry, like leaving a bee sting under the skin to spit toxins long after the bee has died.
Still, the blight was only small. I could take it.

Author Bio:
Cassandra Page is a mother, author, editor and geek. She lives in Canberra, Australia’s bush capital, with her son and two Cairn Terriers. She has a serious coffee addiction and a tattoo of a cat — which is ironic, as she’s allergic to cats. When she’s not reading or writing, she engages in geekery, from Doctor Who to AD&D. Because who said you need to grow up?

To survive as a scullery maid requires hard work, discipline, and a stiff upper lip. To survive as a Demon Hunter is something else entirely. Elizabeth Smythe learned this after she was captured by Demons and rescued by Hunters. Now a Hunter herself, Elizabeth's first task in this new and strange world is to aid the recently wounded Lord Reece Foxjohn, and get him back into Demon-slaying shape. . .

Reece Foxjohn is used to defying convention. He enraged his family by becoming a Demon Hunter, and prefers eviscerating the spawn of Satan to mixing with the ton. He is a man who doesn't hesitate when he knows what he wants, and what he wants is Miss Elizabeth Smythe. From the moment he set eyes on the fiery Hunter, he's wanted to claim her for his own. To watch her behead the progeny of Evil is to behold a thing of beauty.

Chapter 1

Below Edinburgh Castle, Elizabeth Smyth and Reece Foxjohn turned into the corridor to the head demon hunter’s office. She had to keep her wits through one short meeting.

In spite of the cool autumn night, Drake Cullum’s order to report to his office had set her palms to sweating. Indeed, it happened every time she stepped into a room with him. “You don’t understand. How could you? Drake is all that stands between me and the street. If he decides I failed my training, I will have no place to go.”

“But that is not going to happen. We came to Edinburgh for a wedding, not a job evaluation. This meeting is just a formality because we are in town.” Shoulders straight, but not rigid, he held her gaze, his steady blue eyes perfectly framed by dark blond hair loose from its queue.

“Maybe.” She fought the urge to grip her sword hilt through the pocket cut in her skirt.

“Absolutely. Now take a breath and stop acting like a scullery maid. You are a demon hunter.” A grin spread across his angular face and he leaned against the wall.

It sounded so wonderful coming from him. Reece held legendary status among The Company. Even during his long recuperation from a demon’s poison, students would sneak by his sickroom to catch a glimpse of him. She’d volunteered to carry his meals and pick up the trays just to get to know him. Still, she wasn’t sure she’d seen the real Reece in all that time.

After pushing away from the wall, he walked around her and knocked.

“Come in.”

Drake Cullum occupied the lone chair in the book-lined room. He remained sitting when they entered, his eyes narrowed on an ornate knife resting atop the fine wood desk.

Determined to be brave, Elizabeth straightened her spine and stepped closer. The memory of the dagger threw her back to a musty church. She saw the strange tri-bladed dagger gripped by a bull-faced demon. Her vision narrowed to the point of the blade as it descended toward her throat. Her heart stopped. “What is that doing here?” Part of her wanted to run, but rage kept her glued to the spot.

Drake raised an eyebrow. “Do you recognize it, Elizabeth?”

“That’s the dagger they were going to kill me with. I’ll never forget it or the beast who wielded it.” The room closed in around her as the memories assailed her. Demons dragged her into the old church and strapped her to an altar. The stench of death filled the space. The durgot priest’s hot breath turned her stomach. His bull face only inches from hers with no way for her to run. Bindings cut into her wrists. The monster snorted long guttural words, and a chorus of demons repeated. She’d not known what his words meant, but they rang in her dreams every night. The dark metal dagger hovered above her throat. She was going to die by the hands of a devil. There would be no paradise for her soul. Damnation.

Demons screamed in agony as their flesh boiled. Steel clashed with steel and a feminine battle cry. The building crashed around her and in her hazy mind, hell swallowed her.

Drake spread a piece of fabric on top of the knife. “I apologize, Elizabeth. It did not occur to me that you remembered the events of your capture so clearly. I believed you were catatonic throughout the ceremony.”

With his hand on her elbow, Reece steadied her.

“I remember.” She took a breath and met her boss’s gaze. “I’m sorry for my outburst, Mr. Cullum. It surprised me to find the artifact here in plain sight. To be honest, I did not realize The Company had recovered the item.”

“Skane,” Drake said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“It is the Blade of Skane. At least that is what it says along the hilt.”

Fear blasted her confidence and became her greatest enemy. She removed the black cloth and examined the knife. “Where did it come from?”

“We assume the demons brought it with them.”

Reece circled the desk. “What is it made from?”

“We do not know that either. It is heavier than any known metal.”

The weapon had almost taken her life. “What do you think it is for? I cannot believe they only meant to use it for the sacrifice of four common women.”

Drake covered the blade again. “I agree, but we are still researching the full potential of the weapon.”

Her stomach knotted to the point of nausea, but it was only a knife, and there were no demons here. Besides, she could take care of herself now. No one would ever stuff her into a sack or drag her away again, at least not without a fight. Perspective helped to settle everything back into place.

A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back.

A.S. adores writing stories filled with love, passion, desire, magic and maybe a little mayhem tossed in for good measure. Books have always been her perfect escape and she still relishes diving into one and staying up all night to finish a good story.

Multi-published in erotic paranormal, contemporary and historical romance, A.S. is the author of the Mayan Destiny series, Christmas Bliss and many more. With several books currently contracted to multiple publishers, A.S. will be bringing you her brand of romance for many years to come.

Originally from New York, she grew up in New Jersey, and now lives in the East Texas with her real life hero, her wonderful husband. When not reading or writing she enjoys cooking, travel, history, and puttering in her garden.

Having grown up in San Francisco, Calder Brumen is drawn to the ocean, and he's spent his life trying to capture the beauty of the Pacific on canvas. Over time, he has become obsessed with painting the image of a dark haired mermaid named Gaire, and Calder struggles to explain his devotion to these portraits to his best friend. When Calder finds sandy footprints leading to the edge of his bed, he suspects that the haunting siren is real.

Pursuing the truth, Calder is dragged into a murderous, underwater plot that could destroy them all. And he must choose – is the possibility of a lifetime with Gaire worth risking death for himself and everyone he loves?

Bokerah Brumley is an award-winning freelance writer. In her spare time, Bokerah enjoys climbing trees, photographing peacocks, and writing flash fiction. She lives with her husband, five kids, and three dogs in West Texas where she serves as the blue-haired publicity officer for the Cisco Writers Club.